OOC
Minecraft Username: Tidepod__
Are you at least 18 years old?: yeah
Have you read the rules? (Link): yes
- Were you referred by someone? If so, who: idk like everyone
- Introduce yourself if you’d like, as well as any creations you want to share (e.g. art, builds, skins): i'm like really really bad at these but hi i listen to r&b, dancehall, bachata, afrobeats, some pop and rock uhh i'm also autistically interested in history and language and sociology. sometimes i draw and play piano but most of the time i'm fighting my demons (adhd) and just consuming media that relates to the aforementioned interests
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In-Character
Read the following prompt:
The rhythmic lull of hoofbeats are a marching drum to the small group of pioneers and variety of folk you have found yourself amongst, packed into a wobbling wagon. The rolling plains of the Southern Reach and a clear sky stretch out all around you, the buzz of excited chatter a dull wash in your ears as your mind strays to your former life and what has led you here to new lands.
“Nervous?”
You blink, returning to the present moment. A kindly older woman sat near you is smiling warmly with a crinkle to her eyes.
“I can tell it’s your first time. Still remember mine,” she flashes a grin and leans in.
“Tell me my dear, why have you come to the Reach?”
How do you respond (in character)?
A myriad of lies coursed through his mind—each of them adequate enough, yet his heart just wasn’t in it. Maybe it was the prospect of a new beginning, or the way her eyes crinkled when she smiled, but something compelled him to be truthful, for once. 'Hell, she'll be dead by the moon's rise anyway,' he thought, playfully derisive. Setting aside any falsehoods he had prepared, he told her, "Nowhere else to go. Seems as good a place as any to start anew." Valkian magnates were sure to render him a serf until his debts were paid, if he didn't die from exhaustion first. The raiders in the highlands weren't likely to take him in either—nor did he have the heart to take up that way of life. Even he wasn't that desperate. Silence endured between them for a time, only interrupted by the blades of grass shifting in the breeze, the creaking of the cart's axle, and the idle chatter of the other passengers. His eyes wandered to the land around them, the horizon beyond, and he thought of the people that awaited. Free men of the swamp, leaf-clad folk dwelling in tranquil gardens. Then, he thought of the perils he'd overheard from travelers, huddled around dying embers—the bellicose giants, the vengeful dead, those touched by the accursed Blight. Serval cast a wary glance behind him, wishing he could see the reassuring sight of The Wall.
Had he made a mistake?
—
Character Name: Serval
Character Race: Nua Sidhe (human)
Character Age: 18
Brief Physical Description: A young man, sunkissed, with dark hair and eyes. Tattered clothes betray his status as a downtrodden vagabond. Despite his apparent poverty, his eyes are alight with curiosity, a jovial air always emanating from his sideways smile.
